


Let's Kill Wormtail

by Pitry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitry/pseuds/Pitry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black is going to do something ridiculously stupid tonight - but he’s going to do <i>something</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Kill Wormtail

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Sirius_Black fest on LJ, for the prompt: James and Lily didn't choose Remus as their Secret Keeper, because they may have suspected him of being the spy. Perhaps Sirius did too. How does that weigh on their relationship?  
> With many many thanks to my wonderful beta kjmom1! All mistakes still in the text are mine.

Every day, Sirius Black sat down in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and came up with a new plan to kill Wormtail. On Wednesday, he thought of sending him a fake message, so he could lure him out of his rathole and kill him before the rat even had the chance to call for backup; Thursday, he thought of sending him a potion that would make sure his dreams were haunted by the images of the people he had destroyed, until his own mind would be tortured into insanity; By Friday he had conjured up a mad dream that involved Dementors and, if he could manage it, their kiss; Saturday, it was the dream of breaking into Voldemort’s fort and simply killing everyone who crossed his path until he reached Wormtail (and if he got Voldemort on the way, all the better). On Sunday he had the idea of asking _Snivellus_ whether he knew where Wormtail was hiding these days, and only his pride - and, perhaps, his hatred - stopped him. Even as he abandoned that particular plan, he did not abandon the idea as a whole. Not at all.

Mostly, though, he just sat and stared and wondered what Wormtail’s worthless body would look like, with his eyes unseeing and the stupid, simpering expression on his face frozen. He wondered if it would make the image of James and Lily’s unseeing eyes leave his memory, if it would make his heart ache any less when he remembered Harry’s numb voice as he re-told his tale back in Dumbledore’s office. 

At night, when he went to sleep, he kept on remembering that hateful voice. _How could you, Sirius! James and Lily!_ the rat bastard had said, and he remembered it as if it hadn’t been fourteen years already.

It was on one such night when he woke up, drenched in sweat, and realised he wasn’t very likely to fall asleep again. The room was hot and stale - the window still didn’t open properly, despite his ordering Kreacher to do something about the damn thing three times already. It didn’t help that London was going through its biggest heat wave in the past decade, or so the news had told him. 

No, he thought. He’d go downstairs to the kitchen, where at least the windows opened up to the street and allowed some breeze in. He lowered his feet from the bed, thinking for a moment whether he should put on the odd, fluffy slippers he had found in a cupboard a few days ago, and decided against it - they might just try to eat his feet, he thought without real humour. He trotted the corridor barefoot, and stepped lightly down the creaky stairs, careful not too make too much noise. He didn’t want his mother’s portrait to wake up.

It did not escape him how similar the whole thing was to his teenage years, when he would sneak down the stairs in fear of waking his mum. The old hag might be dead, he sighed, but still things stayed the same. 

But something had changed - in the kitchen, the lights were on. He froze on the bottom step, not lowering his foot to the floor. Could it be Kreacher, he wondered. Preparing tomorrow’s meals - no, he banished the foolish thought; Kreacher had continually and repeatedly failed to serve breakfast on time, not to mention lunch or dinner. Whatever that ridiculous elf was doing, he was _not_ staying up late to make sure his Master had something to eat when he woke up.

He took his foot off the step, and landed softly on the floor. Remaining as quiet as possible, Sirius walked down the corridor and towards the kitchen, his ears perked, ready to catch any noise.

Finally, he heard it - someone shifting, moving... reading a newspaper? Sirius had thrown caution to the wind and walked fast now, straight into the kitchen.

It was only Remus, drinking coffee and reading the _Daily Prophet_ and looking as if a horde of rabid hippogriffs had decided his face was made of dead ferrets.

Nothing out of the ordinary, then.

“Morning,” he said casually and settled on a chair in front of Remus.

Remus put down his coffee cup, folded the newspaper, and gave Sirius a Look. “It’s 2 a.m.,” he said.

“Is it? I thought it must be three.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Remus’s voice trailed as he spoke.

“Nonsense. I’m always up for company. How did you get in, though?”

“Dumbledore let me in.”

Sirius’s eyes were drawn despite himself to the newspaper. It was yesterday’s edition, and Remus was reading of how Albus Dumbledore had been stripped of his Wizengamot title. 

“Where is he now?”

Remus shrugged. “Gone somewhere. You know how he is. Never a moment’s rest.”

“Yeah...” 

“Anyway, we thought it’d be best if I stayed here.”

“How come?” Sirius’s brow wrinkled.

Remus picked the paper up again, went through the pages until he found the article he was looking for, and folded it at the centre to make it easier for Sirius to read. 

Dolores Umbridge’s new Werewolf Act. Sirius felt a bit ashamed - he had read through that very same article just the morning before, and not once did he think how it could affect his friend. 

“If things are going to start happening now, it’s better I don’t stay where the Ministry can keep track of me,” Remus said, then fixed Sirius with a worried expression. He didn’t need to say anything more. They were both thinking the same thing. Things _were_ going to start happening now. Now that Voldemort was back. They were both silent for a long time - too long for Sirius’s liking. 

“How’s Harry?” Remus asked eventually.

“Haven’t heard from him yet,” Sirius said. “He’s only been back with his relatives for three days.” Remus nodded. “I still don’t understand why Dumbledore sent him back to the Muggles. He didn’t sound happy there last year.”

“No,” Remus agreed carefully, “I don’t think he’s very happy with them.”

“He’d be much better off here,” Sirius continued.

“Dumbledore insists Harry should spend the summer with his aunt, Sirius. I’m sure he has a reason.”

“After everything he’s been through, after Voldemort - he should be with people who care about him, Remus!”

“I’m sure Dumbledore’s aware of that, Sirius,” Remus said in his annoyingly calm, restrained voice.

Speaking about Harry had reminded Sirius of that night he had spent at Hogwarts. “He saw James and Lily, you know? Coming out of Voldemort’s wand,” Sirius said quietly as he remembered again Harry’s numb, shaky voice, how pale he was, how he stopped before retelling that part of his story.

Remus didn’t say a word. Sirius shot a glance at him - was he thinking what he, Sirius, was thinking? Was he thinking of Sirius’s mistake, all those years ago? But if he were, he gave no sign of it. He just stared gloomily at his hands.

“If I ever see Wormtail again...” Sirius concluded. Unable to undo his own old, terrible mistake, he could only promise Remus - and himself - that the next time he and Wormtail met, it would not end as well for the traitorous rodent. 

He had expected Remus to join in with his ill-wishing of Wormtail. Perhaps, even, the way they used to talk about Snape, all those years ago, he and Remus and James and yes, even Wormtail, when they came up with the best ways to take off that disgusting smile off his face - not so different from what he had been doing in the past days. But Remus didn’t start abusing the filthy traitor they had once considered a friend - instead, an odd expression came over his face. 

Sirius looked at him suspiciously. He had known Remus for years, much better than he had known anyone else, alive or dead. He was a pretty good judge of his character - no, he corrected himself darkly. Not good enough. Not always. But he knew him well enough to recognise this expression. Remus _knew_ something.

“What is it?” he asked. 

Remus looked up, surprised - as always - that his face gave him away.

“What do you mean?” he asked calmly.

“Just now. I mentioned Wormtail, and you looked all of a sudden - .” Realisation dawned on Sirius. “You know where he is!”

“No, I don’t,” Remus said. His nose sniffed automatically once or twice, though - a sure sign that he was lying.

“Yes, you do.” Sirius stood up now and stared at him. “You did that thing with your nose.”

Remus smiled. “You still remember that?” he asked. “After all these years.”

“How can I forget after that time it gave us away to James...” They both burst into laughter that was born out of the memories. They had thought they had been so clever, back at their Hogwarts dormitories, hiding their relationship from James and Wormtail, until that one night when James demanded to know what was going on and Remus’s nose gave them both away... Sirius chuckled as he remembered the expression on both Moony and Prongs’ faces and how fast they had changed colours that particular evening. 

Maybe he should have remembered Remus’s nose three years after that incident, when he had talked with James about the Fidelius charm, he thought to himself and the chuckle died in his throat. They looked at each other for a moment longer in silence. Remus was the first to break eye contact and turn away. Sirius stared at his own hands for a moment.  
Too many memories followed that one. Most of them weren’t funny, not funny at all.

“You know where Wormtail is,” he repeated now. He would not let those memories distract him from the task at hand.

Remus bit his lip, then nodded reluctantly. “Albus said he thought he saw him here. In London. That was why he was in a rush to leave. But I don’t know anything more than that, Sirius. I don’t know where Peter is.”

“But we can go look for him,” Sirius said. He was still standing, and had now exchanged staring at Remus for pacing up and down the room. “We could start asking questions, trace his steps.”

“Yes,” Remus’s laughter was more like a bark than he had remembered. Perhaps it was just his scepticism over Sirius’s words. “Right. A werewolf and a mass-murderer walk into a bar and start asking the whereabouts of dead wizards. _That_ would go down well.”

“Look, if you don’t feel it’s important enough to - ” Sirius started to rant, but stopped when he saw Remus’s expression.

“Sit down, Sirius,” Remus said sharply. “I dare say I know Harry somewhat better than you do, and I care just as much as you do about him. And as for Peter...” his voice was full of venom when he mentioned the hated name. “Yes. Of course I’d like to see him pay for his actions. But there’s a bigger picture here, Sirius! We can’t just run out like - like teenagers! It’s not like in the old days, when you and James just ran around and did whatever came into your mind! You have responsibilities now - and if not for yourself, then for Harry, who’s going to need you, now more than ever!”

Sirius sat down at the table, still restless. “You always had the tendency of talking too much sense into me,” he said grudgingly, but not without affection.

Remus laughed softly. “No,” he said. “The most I could do is get you to reconsider, and even that didn’t always help.”

Sirius remained silent for a moment or two, before looking again at Remus. “But if he’s here, Remus, without his master... What if we never get the chance again? He’s lived in the castle for three years. His information already helped Voldemort get to Harry once. What if the next time, the next piece of information...” he couldn’t finish the sentence. What if his godson, that wonderful brave boy who was so much like James, like the best of James, what if he died the same way as his parents, because of that vermin? Because he, Sirius, didn’t take this opportunity to stop him, once and for all?

And maybe, just maybe, if they caught the vermin, he would not be reminded of the old mistake every time he saw Remus’s face. 

Remus bit his lip, and Sirius allowed himself hope. Remus was considering it. He might not have much of a chance of finding Wormtail on his own, but with Remus, anything was possible. That was the way it’d always been.

“Alright,” Remus said at last, and Sirius allowed himself a smile. “Very well. But we do it my way, Sirius. No charging into unknown territory. We find him my way and try to corner him - my way.”

“You’re the boss, Boss,” Sirius laughed and was rewarded with an exasperated look. “What?”

It took him exactly five minutes to put on decent clothes and shoes and to rush back downstairs. Remus was already putting on his jacket, a shabby, miserable coat that had seen better days, and those had been a long time ago.

“You need a new jacket,” Sirius commented as he put on his own. 

“Sure, you’re going to give me a job?” Remus joked.

“Maybe I’ll get you to clean here instead of Kreacher. You couldn’t possibly do a worse job of it.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” 

With the laughter still on their lips and in their hearts, they left the house. 

It felt good to step outside; Sirius had only been in the house for a week and already it felt like a prison. He took in the fresh air - full of smoke from the various cars, buses and other Muggle transportation methods, cigarette ashes, and the rubbish bins that hadn’t been picked up yet by the council lorries. He didn’t mind. It was fresh compared to the stale feeling inside number 12, and besides, after twelve years being stuck in a cell in Azkaban, he had learned to appreciate the smell of rotting rubbish. For one, it meant he _wasn’t_ stuck in a cell in the middle of the North Sea. 

“Do you think I should change, or...” he started asking Remus.

Remus looked into the darkness for a moment. “I don’t think it’d be necessary,” he said in voice that was cheerful, but in a slightly forced way. “It’s the middle of the night. The Muggles don’t know who you are anyway, and I doubt any Ministry wizards are watching the house. Besides...” he started, but then seemed to think better of it, because he didn’t finish the sentence.

“Besides what?”

“Nothing.”

Just like Remus. “Besides _what_?” Sirius insisted. 

“It’s good to be able to talk to you,” Remus smiled. 

What Sirius had noticed, ever since the two had met again, was that Remus had much more of the wolf in him these days than he ever had before. But now, for just a moment and despite all the years that had passed, his smile had reminded Sirius exactly of that slightly shy boy from all those years ago, before everything fell apart.

“It’s been far too long, Padfoot.”

Sirius turned his head away. He didn’t think he would be able to have that conversation with Remus, not just yet. Instead, he started walking forward, in decisive steps towards the main road. 

It took a moment or two before he heard Remus’s footsteps behind him. He sneaked a glance at the man once he had caught up - grey hair, scratches and lines on his face, shabby clothes and a determined expression; the boy was gone and here was the not-quite-human man Sirius hardly knew. 

Remus didn’t mention it again, nor did he comment on Sirius’s behaviour. Instead, he said in a brisk voice, “We better start at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“At the Leaky Cauldron?” Sirius barked his answer. “I doubt Wormtail is going to be there. Tom might notice that a dead wizard just walked into his pub.”

“Yes, but I don’t believe Wormtail is working alone, whatever his mission from Voldemort may be,” Remus answered pleasantly. “And neither does Dumbledore. Tom may have seen his partners.”

“Do we know who they are?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Remus sighed. “We’ll just have to go and ask who has entered the pub in the past few hours.”

“Right. I’m guessing by ‘we’ you mean ‘you’?”

“Me and my shaggy black dog, yes,” Remus answered carefully. 

Usually, such a statement earned a joke, a sarcastic comment, or just a burst of laughter. But there was some testiness in the way Remus had said those words, an edge that Sirius wasn’t very happy with. Still, he nodded, and they both Apparated into a small, dark alley at the corner of Charing Cross Road, right next to the pub that served as the entrance to Diagon Alley. 

Sirius changed immediately. He tested his new found freedom by running up and down the alley, chasing an unsuspecting cat. He then turned to Remus, waged his tail for a moment, and licked his hand. Remus - black and white but shining in incredible colours through Sirius’s newly found sense of smell - gave a small chuckle. At last, some of the dark blue around him - anger? tension? Sirius wasn’t quite sure - turned into a softer turquoise, then green, and he reached his hand and patted Sirius’s head. 

A compartment in Sirius’s mind that was always fully human, even in animal form, marked the colours for future reference; green was the colour he most often connected with the human concept of regret. He might be reading this wrong, he knew, but it would require exploration later. The compartment wasn’t big enough or dominant enough to start analysing the meaning of regret now. 

Remus walked into the pub, and Sirius followed. 

The barman wasn’t Tom; for a moment, Sirius was worried - but then he remembered it was so late in the night that it was already early in the morning, and that even Tom, the Leaky Cauldron’s eternal owner, needed sleep every once in a while. The small witch behind the bar looked half asleep herself.

“Hi, Jackie,” Remus flashed her a smile.

“Remus!” she jumped, then gave him a huge smile. “How are you? What are you doing here this late?”

“I had to come to London - long story. Listen, I wanted to ask you something... did anyone go through here in the past hour or so?”

“Anyone who?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Anyone. Anyone you recognised, in fact, would be great.”

“What’s going on, Remus?”

“Oh,” he said in a mysterious voice, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She laughed in response.

Was he _flirting_ with that witch? Sirius snapped next to his hand in annoyance, and Jackie noticed him for the first time.

“Oh, my! What a huge dog you’ve got.”

“Yeah,” Remus shot him a Look. “He’s mostly well-trained, but he gets impatient very easily. Hyperactive, I think.”

Sirius growled for a moment, then sat on his hind legs and stared intently at Remus.

“He looks almost like he can understand what you’re saying,” Jackie laughed and reached to pet him. Sirius played with the idea of biting her hand for just a moment, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Remus, so he let her pet him once or twice before pulling away and walking to Remus’s other side. 

Remus shot Sirius another look just in case, and returned his gaze to the witch, smiling carefully.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Let’s see, there was Rita Skeeter - she doesn’t look too well these days. I wonder what’s the matter with her? Anyway, she was walking with that photographer of hers. And then there was Reg Cattermole, you know him? He’s at the Ministry. He came in here really late with Dirk Cresswell. And Lucius Malfoy and - ”

“Lucius Malfoy was here?” Remus asked sharply, at the same time as Sirius started growling. 

“Yeah - but he just sat here in the pub for a while. It’s very odd, he doesn’t often sit here, usually he just goes through to Diagon Alley.”

“And did he go through today?” Remus asked, trying - and failing - to sound casual.

“No, that was what was weird, you see. He sat here, drank a firewhiskey with a witch, must be his wife, I reckon, then they went back to the Muggle street. Oh - but you asked only about the last hour, that must have been earlier in the evening. Yes, I think he was here even before Tom went to sleep,” she said. 

Sirius could feel Remus’s hand clenching on his fur. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, even if Malfoy wasn’t here together with Wormtail.

“Albus Dumbledore was also here...” she kept on counting the people. “Oh, but he must be the one you were looking for!”

“No, no,” he gave her a reassuring smile. “I knew Dumbledore was here.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s it, I think. Except for - oh, I never remember his name!”

“Who?” Remus asked, again tense.

“Big bloke. Works in the Ministry. He’s often seen with Malfoy, actually.”

“Goyle?”

“No, no - well, Goyle was with him, for sure, but he’s not the one I meant. What _was_ his name? Albert something.”

“Albert Runcorn,” Remus offered.

“Yes!” she said, excited. “Yes, yes, exactly. Runcorn. He was here with Goyle, maybe forty, fifty minutes ago. With another small wizard, but I didn’t recognise that one. Never seen him before. Must be foreign or something.”

Sirius could feel Remus’s hand on his neck. Calm down, it said. Remus must have been able to sense the excitement that washed over Sirius - _they found him_!

“Where did they go, do you know?” Remus asked, and this time he managed to maintain the air of indifference a bit better than before.

“I don’t know, they didn’t even stop to say hello. Just walked through to Diagon Alley.”

“Thank you, Jackie,” Remus gave her a huge smile. “You’ve been a tremendous help.”

“Aren’t you staying?” she asked, and immediately shone in the brown of disappointment.

“I’m afraid I can’t - besides, my dog here will tear your pub apart if I stay here any longer. I told you, he’s not a very patient dog.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Well, see you soon?” 

“Of course,” he answered and the two of them continued through the back door, to the small alley and the entrance to Diagon Alley. Remus tapped the wall, and the entrance revealed itself. He walked through calmly, but Sirius shot past him. Another second or two, and he changed back into human form.

“Sirius!” Remus said in alarm. “What on earth are you doing? Someone is going to see you!”

“I doubt it. It’s the middle of the night. Everyone’s asleep. And I figure, if we’re going to run into Wormtail, you’d need a second wand.”

“If we run into Wormtail...” Remus started, but then stopped. “Oh, very well,” he said irritably and started walking again. Sirius smiled to himself and made to follow him. 

Diagon Alley at night looked so different to Diagon Alley during the day - or at least, to the Diagon Alley Sirius remembered. He had not dared coming back there, not since he had escaped Azkaban. Some shops were different - he didn’t remember the third bookshop, or the posh women’s robes place next to Gringotts; others merely looked different - he could have sworn Eeylops had added another floor, and he was sure the joke shop was never _pink_. He drank it all in, smiling every once in a while when he ran into a familiar sight - Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour looked just like he remembered it, as did Ollivander’s - and of course, Gringotts. But the last two had probably looked the same the last century, too.

He imagined for a moment what it would be like, to be there in the morning. All the shoppers, going around their way. Maybe even some of the London-bound Hogwarts kids, getting their new robes or a new broom for the holidays. He remembered the day after the holiday started, must have been their third year, when he and James ran to buy new brooms. His mother wasn’t very happy, but she didn’t say anything because the Potters were only happy to oblige, and she couldn’t look as if she couldn’t afford the same as the Potters. Sirius’s smile turned into a hearty laughter as he remembered her expression when James showed up at Number 12.

“Will you keep it down!” Remus hissed. 

Sirius caught himself immediately. “Sorry,” he whispered back.

“What were you laughing for, anyway?”

“I was just thinking about that time James showed up and made my mum spend thirty Galleons on a new broomstick.”

Remus chuckled. “You guys planned it for months,” he said.

“I know, I couldn’t believe it worked!”

“Whatever happened to that broomstick? It was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” All kinds of memories came back to Sirius: seeing James defeating Slytherin on his new broomstick; that time they took the brooms and hid a bunch of Snivellus’s stuff on top of the Astronomy tower, just to see him running around madly, unable to prove it was them; racing James to Hogsmeade on their brooms, and how old McGonagall shouted at them for that afterwards... and then a newer memory came, the one of seeing Harry fly so well - so much like James - during that game.

And then the memories stopped, because, once again, he was reminded of the present. 

“Harry’s so much like him,” he said quietly.

“I was just thinking how so much like Lily he is,” Remus answered, equally quiet.

The next few minutes, they peered through alleyways and shops in silence, looking for a sign of their traitorous friend. Soon, Sirius sank into memories again. Every new corner seemed to bring up something - buying school supplies with Regulus when he just started Hogwarts, or the place Lupin got when they left Hogwarts, that terrible place no one had wanted because of the post office owls, or that time they had tried to sneak into Knockturn Alley before their third year...

The dog noticed something before Sirius’s human brain interpreted it. He froze, and looked at Remus - who had sensed the same thing. Remus jerked his head carefully towards a dark alley, one that led directly to Knockturn Alley. Sirius sniffed - so much harder as a human than as a dog, but since he had been in his animal form only a few minutes before, some of the gifts lingered, and his sense of smell wasn’t completely useless. 

It was just a trace, but it was there. _Rat_.

He’d know that smell anywhere. Animagi never smelt like other animals, and Peter Pettigrew could never be mistaken for an innocent rodent. This wasn’t just any rat - this was _the_ rat. Sirius nodded to Remus, and they progressed silently towards the alley. Sirius let Remus lead - two days after the full moon, Remus’s sense of smell was so much better than his was. Remus turned right, then left; right again, then stopped, confused, and backtracked a little. They had gone a few more metres forward when Remus stopped and didn’t continue.

“What?” Sirius whispered.

Remus shook his head and pointed at the small alley. It took Sirius a while to understand - here was the end of wizarding London, a comfortable exit away from the Leaky Cauldron. Wormtail and his Death Eater friends had walked through the enchanted alley - and gone back to Muggle London on the other side once they had accomplished their mission. 

Remus raised an eyebrow in question; Sirius nodded and raised his own eyebrow in a silent challenge. Remus sighed - Sirius was sure he could sense just the hint of exasperation in his sigh - and shrugged. They progressed down the alley from wizarding London into Muggle London.

Sirius didn’t need any hint to know when he had crossed the barrier between the two worlds. His sense of smell was hit the second he stepped into the Muggle alley. There was no way around it - non-magical streets simply smelt differently to areas that were full of magic.

But there was another smell here - strong, lingering, familiar. _Rat_. And it wasn’t a faint trace, as it had been back in Diagon Alley. It was fresh and strong and filled Sirius’s nostrils. _He was there_. 

Remus twitched next to him. He had smelt the same thing. Sirius mouthed the word to Remus. _Rat_. Remus nodded, and gestured towards a building site - the Muggles were building here, at the heart of London, their tall, glass covered buildings. And a rat was hiding inside the building, Sirius was sure of it.

He started running, not bothering to consult his nose, or his eyes, or his ears. Only one thing filled him, hot red and urgent - revenge. 

“Sirius, no!” Remus cried from behind him, but Sirius ignored his call. He rushed towards the building site and through the skeleton of a door.

And then the entire bloody building collapsed on top of him.

  
**-X-**   


They say that when you’re facing death, you see your life flashing before your eyes. Maybe Sirius wasn’t going to die, because all he saw was the bricks, and then, mercifully, he lost consciousness.

He returned to consciousness a short while _after_ he had started feeling pain again.

“AAAAAARGH!” he cried out as a stray brick smashed a rib.

“Sirius!” he heard a voice from beyond the pain and bricks. A familiar voice, wasn’t it? He knew that man. Moony. Remus. Remus Lupin.

“Remus,” his said with more of a croak than anything resembling his own voice. He hoped Remus could hear him.

“I’m here,” came the response. “I’m trying to get you out of here. We don’t have much time.”

“Why - what’s going on?”

“The whole building collapsed. I imagine the Muggles will get here soon enough.”

Sirius just groaned again. He’d never get out of there if the Muggles got involved and insisted on doing things the Muggle way.

“Just... try to get me out of here, will you?” 

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” 

“Right. Carry on.” 

Remus chuckled from behind the bricks. “You shouldn’t have run into the building like that,” he chastised Sirius. “I was about to tell you there was something fishy in it. They actually used Muggle explosives - I could smell them but I wasn’t sure what they were.”

“Be faster next time,” Sirius groaned.

“Be more patient next time,” Remus retorted, but Sirius could hear the smile in his voice. “Anyway, Wormtail disappeared again. Not a big surprise, I imagine they planned this as soon as they caught sight of the two of us.”

Sirius tried to answer, but the pain in his ribs made it too difficult. 

“Sirius?” he heard Remus’s voice after a moment. 

“Here,” he managed to say. “Keep... talking.”

“Don’t worry. I’m getting you out of there. I won’t let that scum...”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to - Sirius knew exactly what he was thinking. He wouldn’t let that scum kill another one of his friends. 

“Who’d have imagined,” he managed to say at last, after many false starts and coughing fits. “We always thought that if any of us was going to die first, it’d be - be - Wormtail,” he managed. 

Lupin laughed without mirth. “Yes, because the only way he’d ever win a duel would be to turn into a rat and flee,” he said. “I remember.”

“Funny how things turn out.”

Remus didn’t answer immediately. “I always thought you and James were wrong,” he said all of a sudden. “I always thought it’d be me.”

“Well, look on the - the - brighter side,” Sirius panted. “Now that Voldemort’s back, we’re all going to die anyway.”

Remus didn’t find Sirius’s joke so funny. “It’d be nice, though. If we had a chance of winning.”

“Don’t get - ideas - into your head,” Sirius’s pants were turning into gasps. His vision was becoming blurry at the edges, and even though, according to the hour, the darkness was supposed to be getting softer, it was becoming more overbearing.

“It’d be nice if you and I got another chance, too,” Remus continued. Perhaps he didn’t hear Sirius’s words. Perhaps he preferred to ignore them. “I don’t expect us to pick up where we left off,” he added hurriedly. “I know it’s been too long for that - and besides, we’re much too old for that now. God, we were so young and stupid back then, weren’t we?” he chuckled. Sirius tried to grunt, but gave up after his ribs threatened to burst on fire.

Just like Moony. Wait until he’s in that kind of situation and _then_ start talking about - _that_. He could have killed him - if he didn’t need him to save his life, of course. 

“But it was fun, the both of us. And now that you’re going to stay in London - Dumbledore told me you’ve offered Grimmauld Place as Headquarters. It’s a great suggestion.”

“Moony - shut - up,” Sirius managed to speak the sentence between pants. “You talk too much. I don’t...” a sharp pain in his leg forced him to stop talking for a moment. He took a deep breath - too much brick dust, not enough oxygen, his head was swimming - and tried again. “I don’t want things. Picking up. Where we left.”

“Oh,” Remus said on the other side. 

That... might not have come out the way Sirius had intended.

“No - I mean - ”

“No, it’s alright, you’re right, of course,” Remus’s voice was cold and hurt. He was trying to disguise it, Sirius could tell, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “I was being stupid. It’s been so long. We’re not the same people anymore. We don’t even know each other. I was being a fool.”

Sirius was going to try speaking again and tell him he got it wrong, when Remus’s face peered through the hole. He had managed to break through, and was now clearing the bricks around Sirius. The weight and sharp corners were suddenly gone; Sirius could breathe freely again. His ribs still hurt like hell, but other than that, he was fine.

Remus waved his wand once more, and helped Sirius get up. Sirius leaned on Remus’s shoulder, panting - but capable of staying up. “Hooray for small victories,” he smiled. Remus didn’t return his smile.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Remus.”

For a moment, Sirius thought Remus was going to let go of him. But he didn’t - of course he wouldn’t, Sirius thought. That was Remus. No matter what you did to him, he remained loyal. Sirius could kick himself.

“How did you mean it, then?” Remus asked at last.

“Don’t you remember those last few weeks?” Sirius asked harshly. 

That was what it had come down to. Those last few weeks. 

Sirius was there, with James and Lily, the night Dumbledore came and told them. There was a spy in their midst. He didn’t want to say anything, not until he was sure, not until he was absolutely certain, but now he was - there was a spy in the Order, and it was someone who was as close to Lily and James as anyone ever was. Lily bit her lip, but James - James looked absolutely stricken. Can’t be, he said. Not any of our friends. Dumbledore insisted - someone was. There was no question of it. The only question was who.

James had refused to consider it, but Sirius went home that night with a head full of unpleasant thoughts. If it were someone close to James and Lily, it was someone close to Sirius. Who among the people he knew could be passing on information to Voldemort? 

Maybe it was the empty bed that had first sent him in that direction. It wasn’t a full moon, and still Remus did not always come back. It’s the wolf, Remus said with a small smile. Sometimes I need to disappear for a bit. It matched recorded werewolf behaviour, of course; Sirius had never thought about it except for the mild irritation he felt every once in a while when he came home horny or frustrated or just wanting to spend some time with Remus, and found the place dark and empty. But it didn’t change the fact that those nighttime strolls would have been the perfect opportunity for the werewolf to pass information over to the other side. And, after all, that was what everyone said, wasn’t it? Werewolves were not to be trusted. That was what everyone thought, everyone except James and Lily and Wormtail and Sirius. 

James had wanted to use Remus for their little subterfuge. It was because of Sirius’s own doubt that he had convinced James to choose Peter, instead. He was the one who believed that scum was innocent, and Remus guilty. He was the one who got it all wrong.

And then there were those last few weeks - Remus was never very good in lying and keeping secrets, and neither was Sirius. Their last weeks together were full of petty little fights, angry raised voices, and one or two cases of slammed doors. When Sirius went to hiding, after they had performed the Fidelius charm, he didn’t tell Remus where he was going. And the next time they had met was in the Shrieking Shack, thirteen years later.

Those last few weeks were not something he ever wanted to pick up again. No, what he wanted was to be able to look at Remus’s face again without feeling that burning shame. 

Remus opened his mouth to speak - but at the same time, they could hear the sirens. At last, the Muggles were coming.

“Good thing I didn’t rely on them to save my life,” Sirius grunted, and Remus just chuckled. 

“Can you Apparate?” he asked.

Sirius gave him a look that was supposed to convey, ‘Of course, don’t be stupid’. Unfortunately, it seemed Remus got rather the wrong idea of it, because he said, “Of course you can’t. Sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

“I’m fine,” Sirius said, slightly more short-tempered than he should have been. 

Remus raised an eyebrow and removed the hand that supported Sirius. Sirius fell down unceremoniously, hitting the floor with a bang.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered. “You’ve made your point. Could have done it a bit less painfully.”

“We don’t have time to sit here and argue all night,” Remus said. He didn’t seem too sorry about Sirius’s ribs. He offered his hand to Sirius, who took it and went back to leaning on him. 

“I don’t see that we have a choice but to Apparate, anyway,” he pointed out. “The Muggle police will be here any moment.”

“Fire services,” Remus said.

“Huh?”

“It’s not the police, it’s - oh, never mind.” With that, Remus turned on the spot, taking Sirius with him. They Apparated right at the entrance of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. 

Sirius collapsed before they had even walked through the door. Apparition did not seem to agree with his ribs. He might have lost consciousness again for a short while - he certainly didn’t remember being carried upstairs to his room, or being put in his bed.

When he next opened his eyes, something revolting was being forced through his mouth - some potion. In a goblet, with the Black family crest on it. And on the other side was an anxious looking Moony, who looked exactly like he did during one of his N.E.W.T.s anxiety attacks.

“What’s that?” he mumbled.

“Something to make your ribs better,” Moony said. Remus said, Sirius corrected himself. Remus said. He hadn’t been Moony for a long time, probably. That time when they took their N.E.W.T.s was long ago.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked.

“Like a building full of bricks fell on me,” Sirius said, and they both laughed. It was painful to laugh, but not as painful as it was before. The potion was already working.

“We made it through, though,” Remus said with a little smile. “I told you.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sirius agreed.

“Maybe we’ll make it through this war, too.”

“Maybe.”

“We didn’t have much time, before,” he said, more guarded now. “Maybe we’ll get a better chance now?”

Sirius allowed himself a smirk, and the warmth that had filled his body at the sight of Remus’s relieved smile was better than any potion. “We’re going to have all the time in the world,” he said, much more softly than usual. “We’re going to live forever, you and I.”

All of a sudden, Remus’s face was an inch from his. Sirius opened his mouth to kiss his old friend - his old lover - but Remus had one more thing in mind.

“Let’s decide one thing, though,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” Sirius asked.

“Next time, let’s actually succeed. Let’s kill Wormtail.”

“You’re on.”


End file.
